


Family

by orphan_account



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dori/Bilbo (minor), Kid!Fic, Kid!Ori - Freeform, M/M, Pre-Quest, kid!Nori - Freeform, prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 14:55:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dori, struggling with handling his two little brothers, moves to The Shire hoping for a slightly calmer life, where he meets Bilbo Baggins, who's felt alone since the death of his parents and longs for family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so I'm supposed to be on hiatus, but I got this prompt from Shily on one of my other stories, so I thought I'd put it up now because it's just a little ficlet. Hope it's okay, Shily! As always, if you guys see any errors, just tell me and I'll fix them up. Cheers!

Bilbo had never seen Dwarves before. Not that many Hobbits had in the first place. In fact, probably none of them had. Even the Tooks, who had a penchant for travel, weren’t really all that well acquainted with their neighbours in the Blue Mountains.

So when he stumbled across a small Dwarven child, sitting at the side of the road, looking lost and frightened, he was more than a little confused.

Of course, he hadn’t _known_ the child had been a Dwarf until he’d asked. He’d never even seen anyone wear shoes except the Men in Bree and Gandalf.

But, surely, it would be easy enough to find the child’s parents. After all, Dwarves certainly stood out in a crowd. Especially here.

So he knelt in front of the small boy, ignoring the curious looks from Hobbits who were not a moment ago pointedly ignoring the child’s existence.  “Are you all right, little one?” he asked the boy. “Are you lost?”

The little thing nodded miserably, worrying at his lip. He looked utterly devastated, tugging at Bilbo’s heartstrings.

“Well, why don’t you come with me and we’ll find your parents. Do you know where they were before you got lost?”

The boy sniffled. “Dori was lookin’ at tea.” He was so quiet Bilbo almost missed it.

“Dori? Is that your father?”

“M’brother,” the boy replied as Bilbo helped him to his feet. “He looks after me.”

Bilbo, unlike some of his other relatives, was kind enough not to prod or criticize that sort of thing.

“Well, I’m Bilbo Baggins. It’s very nice to meet you. What’s your name, little one?”

“Ori,” the boy answered tentatively, shuffling his feet shyly.

“So, the tea shop.” Bilbo clapped his hands together. “I know _just_ where that is.” The little boy looked relieved. “Now you just follow me and I’ll find your brother.”

“Alright, Mister Baggins,” Ori slipped his little hand into Bilbo’s and followed him down the path.

Ori was a rather smart little thing- spouting off facts he’d been learning in the book he carried tucked under one arm. He clutched at it like it was his lifeline, like if he lost it his world would end. Bilbo could relate.

As he’d suspected, Ori and his brothers had come from the Blue Mountains, hoping to find somewhere a calmer, less harsh sort of life. Bilbo had heard stories about the Blue Mountains, about the people there- many refuges, after their home was taken from them by a dragon. Their leader, the only living heirs to the throne, and his sister, led their people as best as they could. But things were hard.

In the centre of the village Bilbo found a panicked looking Dwarf with another small child at his arm, desperately searching for someone. He caught sight of Ori, still clutching at Bilbo’s hand, and Bilbo was certain he would have fallen to his knees in relief if he’d stayed still.

“Ori!” the Dwarf fell to his knees in front of them, grabbing hold of Ori’s shoulders. “You never, _ever_ do that to me again!”

Ori looked at his brother guiltily. “Sorry, Dori.”

Dori looked up at Bilbo now. “Thank you so much,” he said, struggling to his feet. He looked absolutely exhausted. “I am so sorry. He’s too curious, this one.” He took hold of Ori’s arm and pulled him close. “Usually I have to worry more about this one causing trouble, though.” He gestured to the second child just behind him. “Nori’s always up to something.”

Bilbo looked at the boy now, his mischievous eyes and twitchy fingers- and had to agree. The boy certainly looked suspicious.

“It’s not a problem,” he informed Dori now. “Kids can be… troublesome sometimes. Ori seemed very upset about the whole thing.”

Dori made an affirmative noise, his face gentling slightly. “He’s a good boy,” he agreed now. “Most of the time, anyway,” he added with a bit of a smirk.

“Well, have to get back home now, but it was lovely meeting you.” He looked down at Ori now. “And you as well, Mister Ori.”

“Goodbye, Mister Bilbo.” Ori muttered the words into his eldest brother’s leg.

 

* * *

 

Bilbo hadn’t really thought that much about the Dwarves in the time that passed afterwards, although occasionally he’d spare a thought as to how they were settling in. Mostly he was concentrating wholeheartedly in fixing up his garden.  Bag End had been a botanist’s heaven when his parents had been alive, all sorts of plants and vegetables. For the life of him Bilbo just hadn’t felt like he could keep it after his parents died. He’d employed Hamfast Gamgee to care for it- but no matter how talented the Hobbit, the garden would never be what it used to be with Bungo caring for it.

But lately Bilbo had been feeling the green thumb, and the urge to potter about in the sun, getting his hands dirty had become too tempting to ignore any further.

So he hadn’t noticed the two pairs of curious little eyes that had been watching him for the past hour or so. His audience peered through the slats in the fence, watching him pull out weeds and hum to himself, occasionally wiping his brow.

After some time, bored, the elder of the two boys climbed up to the top of the fence, leaning over. The smaller one tried to copy his brother, but he was far too small and his chubby hands couldn’t reach the top.

“Oi, you!” the boy called.

Bilbo jumped, turning to look over his shoulder at the boy. “What on earth are you doing?” he demanded, getting to his feet. “That’s dangerous. Hop down!”

“Sorry, Mister Bilbo.” Ori peered through the slats again. “We just wanted to see what you were doing.”

“Did you run off away from your brother again?”

Ori shook his head. “No,” he insisted.

Nori, still hanging off the fence, explained. “Dori’s working, so we told him we were going for a walk.”

“On your own?” Bilbo wondered.

Nori shrugged. “It’s a small place.”

“And a lot safer than the Blue Mountains!” Ori chimed in.

Bilbo set his hands on his hips. “Well, then. Why don’t you come and help me with the garden, and I can bring out some sweet tea and cakes?”

Nori, very clearly liking the sound of that, jumped off the fence and grabbed his brother’s hand, leading him around the fence and into the garden. “I can pull out the weeds!”

Ori was frowning. “I don’t know which ones are weeds.”

“Well, then you can order the seeds, if you’d like.” Bilbo informed him, pointing towards the small bags he had near the carrots. Ori brightened marginally. “Now be careful,” Bilbo warned. “And no misbehaving. I’ll be back in a moment.” He went back inside to pile some food onto a tray and brought it out a few minutes later with a pot of tea for the boys where they had a makeshift picnic near the courgettes.

Ori had a never ending litany of questions for Bilbo about Bag End and The Shire, and though Nori was shiftily sneaking food into his pocket, Bilbo didn’t mention it.

He told them all about Hobbits and their habits and gardening and cooking and all sorts of other things that piqued the boys interest. He even taught them how to play Conkers (although he had not a clue how anyone could grow up _not_ knowing about conkers), which they enjoyed very much.

“You should take it home with you,” Bilbo told them both when they made move to go back to Dori.

Nori, who Bilbo supposed was considering taking it anyway, looked at him in surprise.

“We couldn’t,” Ori was shaking his head, hair falling in his face.

“You can and you will.” Bilbo told them both. “I don’t play it nearly as much as I used to, I’m sure you’ll get far more enjoyment out of it than I would.”

Ori looked like he was going to protest, eyes comically wide, but Nori nudged his brother and stuffed the game into his pocket hastily, thanking Bilbo.

Bilbo chuckled at them long after they’d disappeared down the path.

 

* * *

 

Dori’s teashop had become the talk of the town which, of course, annoyed Lobelia to no end. “He’s just copied my Otho!” she argued.

“Your Otho makes the worst cuppas in the world,” Hamfast told her simply. “We only went there because it was the only place and no one’s fond of walking all the way to Bree to get their tea.”

Lobelia, furious, stuttered and stomped her foot while the others smothered laughter in fear of her wrath. “How dare you say that!”

For Bilbo, who hadn’t been to the tea shop yet, it only solidified the idea of going to see what it was like. After all, he hadn’t seen Nori or Ori lately, and he was wondering how they were enjoying the game he’d taught them.

Upon entering the new tea shop, however, he heard a row of immense magnitude.

Dreka Proudfoot, apparently furious, was giving Mister Dori the loudest verbal lashing he’d ever heard. “That brat stole my apples!” He pointed at Nori as he shouted. “Right off my table at the markets! This is what happens when you bring Dwarves into the community. I said so myself, but no one believed me, did they?”

Nori was peeking out from around Dori’s leg at Dreka, not looking guilty in the slightest.

Dori on the other hand, was apoplectic. “You can’t do that!” he snapped, strongly defending his brother. “You don’t get to go around and accuse people of stealing just because they’re Dwarves!”

“Mister Proudfoot,” Bilbo interrupted before Dreka could open his mouth to shout back. “Am I interrupting?”

Dreka turned to look at him. “Bilbo,” he greeted sternly, jaw clenched. But at least he wasn’t yelling.

“Is there a problem?” he wondered. “You seem rather wound up, my friend.”

Dreka sighed, annoyed. “The _Dwarf_ stole my apples.” He jerked his chin in the direction of Nori.

The way Dreka said the word _Dwarf_ , spat out like it was poison, made Dori flinch, and it made Bilbo rather angry. “Did he?” he asked. “And do you have proof of that, or are you just accusing him?”

“Well… I…” Dreka spluttered. “I saw him!”

Bilbo raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain? Because I have to say, he doesn’t look much different to a Hobbit child- especially when running away. Perhaps you mistook someone else for him.”

“I’m not blind,” Dreka growled now. “He looks nothing like a Hobbit!”

“If you don’t have any proof, Dreka, you really ought to leave. The Thain wouldn’t like to hear about you harassing our new friends for no reason.”

Dreka, who had grown increasingly red throughout his conversation with Bilbo, opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut again quickly.   

“Good day, Dreka.” Bilbo told him as he left.

“Good day,” Dreka grumbled in reply, pouting like a child.

“I am sorry about him,” Bilbo said as soon as the stores door closed after him. He turned back to Dori. “Some of the Hobbits here don’t like the competition. Dreka is good friends with Otho- who owns the other tea shop.”

Dori nodded. “Thank you.”

“Next time, though,” Bilbo looked down at Nori, “you really ought to be more careful. Hobbit’s aren’t like Dwarves- we won’t cut your hand off if you steal. But we will scorn you right out of the village, which is even worse. Hobbits can be quite scary when they want to be.”

Bilbo was smiling as he spoke, of course, but Nori just nodded, utterly serious.

“Well,” he clapped his hands together, “I actually didn’t come here to defend your honour- surprisingly enough.” He turned his attention to Dori once more. “I was looking for some tea.”

“Well, _that_ I can help with.” Dori waved for Bilbo to follow him. “This way.”

Dori had a surprisingly large range of tea leaves, everything from the Blue Mountains to the Brown Lands, and even as far as Rhovanion. Upon finding Elvish tea, Bilbo asked Dori why he had such a thing, surprised. “I was under the impression Dwarves and Elves didn’t like each other.”

“We may not get along,” Dori told him. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t appreciate their tea. After all, their food has a lot to be left desired.”

Bilbo snorted.

By the time Bilbo had picked out the tea not only was he rather poor, having parted with several gold coins, he was also rather taken with Ori and Nori’s older brother. Dori was a smart man, who cared about more than just food and gossip. He was well travelled, and had many stories to share, an above all else, he was kind. And not the type of ‘kind’ that held a faux sense to it, but a genuine kindness and gentleness. Kindness not for the sake of appearances- but out of a legitimate wish to be good, and that was rare, even here in the peaceful and friendly hamlet of The Shire.

“You must come to tea,” he was telling Dori as he left. “I make several lovely cakes- your brother’s can more than attest to their taste, they devoured enough of it. I would be pleased to have you as a guest.”

“Yes, well, that sounds lovely,” Dori told him, looking flattered. Very clearly he hadn’t had many offers for company since he’d arrived. “I’d love to.”

“Wonderful,” Bilbo told him. “Tomorrow, for Elevensies? Ori and Nori can come, too, of course- I have lots of books Ori would love to look at, and numerous little trinkets my mother gathered on her travels that Nori would find interesting.” Both the boys perked right up at the suggestion, glancing at their eldest brother to see what he’d say.

“That is very kind of you,” Dori told him. “Thank you.”

Bilbo nodded. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow!” Cheered at the prospect of interesting company, he whistled the whole way home.

 

* * *

 

After his first visit for tea, Dori began to come over increasingly. Just to drop by with a new blend he was thinking of trying, or to catch up- sometimes he didn’t even have a reason.

Nori and Ori slowly became almost permanent fixtures at Bilbo’s side, clinging onto his arms, helping him in the gardening, or listening to him tell stories.

And Dori would tell Bilbo his own stories in return.

“What are the Blue Mountains like?” Bilbo would ask him often. “What was Erebor like before it fell?”

And Dori, seemingly unfazed by the continuous repetition of questions, indulged him every time, weaving tales about stretching mountains and high stone pillars and gold and stones brighter than any star. They stayed up late to the wee hours of the morning, talking about everything and nothing at all.

“I always wanted to travel,” Bilbo divulged one night while Nori and Ori slept, curled up by the fire. “But I never had the chance. After my parents died, I became the Master here of Bag End, and I just… There were so many things I had to do- I just never had the time.”

“There’s always time,” Dori told him. “You just have to find it.”

“If I leave Lobelia will burrow her way in and take over.” Bilbo laughed now. “Besides, I have no idea where to start.”

“We could show you, you know. Around the Blue Mountains. We’re planning on going back there after the winter months. I have cousins there still.”

“You’d take me with you?” Bilbo asked him, surprised.

“Why not? You’ve been very kind to us all, even though you didn’t have to. I see no reason why we shouldn’t be kind to you in return.”

Bilbo smiled now, thinking about it. “A Hobbit among Dwarves,” he chuckled. “I’d be the scorn of The Shire.”

“And the talk of the Mountains,” Dori added. “They’d like you, you know. The other Dwarves. Even if you don’t have a beard.”

Bilbo laughed. “I could always wear a fake one. The Bracegirdles have an excellent supply of wool- we could make a fake one so I could fit in better.”

Dori joined in on the laughter, obviously finding the idea very amusing. “You’d still stand out, I’m afraid. It’s the feet.”

Bilbo glanced down at said feet now, wriggling his toes. “Yes, well… I suppose. But it does sound rather nice, regardless.”

Dori smiled. “Then it’s a deal.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bilbo told him.

“And I won’t let you down.”

They fell into a comfortable silence now, listening to the quiet crackle of the fire.

And for the first time in a very long while Bilbo actually felt like he had some semblance of a family again.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So do we call Dori/Bilbo Dilbo? Because frankly that is the most hilarious name ever.


End file.
